


Cues

by saintstrawberryxx



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, M/M, Marijuana, One Shot, References to Drugs, References to Sex, Tutoring, University Student Akaashi Keiji, University Student Bokuto Koutarou
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:41:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27949976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saintstrawberryxx/pseuds/saintstrawberryxx
Summary: Akaashi took the first work-study position he saw at college. Now, he has to tutor possibly the most over the top moron he’s ever met and pretend he isn’t enjoying himself just a little bit.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Comments: 16
Kudos: 69





	Cues

_It’s almost 3:30_ , Akaashi thinks, checking his watch. _He should be here by now_. He sighs and opens a new tab on his laptop, pulling up his tutoring schedule to mark the third year, Bokuto Kōtarō, absent.

“Hey, hey, hey! Are you Akaashi?!” As if on cue, a loud, deep voice booms to his left, breaking the natural silence of the library. A chorus of irritated shushes follows.

The black-haired college student looks up dutifully from his MacBook, taking in the culprit.

“Sorry, sorry!” A broad-chested man stage-whispers to the room, a sincere apology in his yellow eyes and a sizeable hand sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. The other rests on a black messenger bag. He wears a large white tee over an even larger red hoodie. His black joggers are decorated with cargo pockets and various straps hanging loosely at the sides of long legs. He’s tall, taller than Akaashi by at least a couple of inches. His black and silver hair is spiked to the sky, its height rivaling his other tutee, Hinata’s, mop. Even Akaashi can’t deny it: he is, objectively, attractive.

The stranger turns to meet his wide-eyed stare, offering a subdued wink and an easy smile.

“Hey, hey, hey. Are you Akaashi?” He repeats, this time in a hushed tone.

“I am. You must be Bokuto-san,” Keiji replies quietly, then shakes his head slightly.

_This is stupid. We don’t need to actually whisper._

As if reading his mind, the man adopts a regular speaking voice, “Hey, that’s right! Nice to meet you! So sorry I’m late, I was at lunch!” He says happily, plopping his bag down next to Akaashi on the dark mahogany table.

“…Lunch?” Akaashi murmurs. “It’s almost four.”

Bokuto ignores the remark and pulls up a chair, lowering himself to straddle the back of it casually.

“I’ve never had a tutoring appointment before! Kuroo says I need it though, my comp. sucks. You’re a lit major, huh? Dude, I could never. You must pump out an essay a day!” Bokuto talks at a mile a minute, drumming his fingers on the surface of the table.

“I really… don’t,” Akaashi responds, toying with his fingers, still overwhelmed by the sheer presence of his new student.

The third-year dismisses him with the wave of his hand.

“Still! Impressive. _And_ you’re a first-year! I think I read that on your profile-thingy. Already schooling big dogs like me- props to you, man,” Bokuto holds out a clenched hand.

Akaashi blinks owlishly at the fist extended to him before lightly tapping it with his own. Bokuto’s face splits into a bright grin.

The tutor wants to find him absolutely ridiculous, but his expression and enthusiasm are just too… genuine.

“Anyway, I’ve got this American History paper- professor’s batshit. Big stickler for format, which of course I’m shit with. Half the class I can’t even pay attention, just wondering what crawled up his as-“

Akaashi clears his throat before Bokuto can continue. “So, what’s the citation style?”

Head tipping to the side gently in confusion, his peer asks, “The what-what?”

This is going to be a long hour.

“The format. For the essay. We can start there, if that’s where you’re having trouble.”

Bokuto brightens.

“Oh, right! How’d you know?! It’s “Chicago”, I guess, which sounds cool but really, _really_ isn’t.”

Akaashi has to hide a grimace. _Of course_ it's Chicago.

“I’m familiar.”

“Oh, awesome! So, you know, the paper’s actually about these guys, the Shakers. They, uh, they think that sex is a sin and stuff.”

Bokuto starts giggling. It’s so sudden it almost makes Akaashi jump, but before long, the objectively attractive man has his objectively attractive head in his elbow, pounding on the table with a fist, guffawing.

Akaashi looks anxiously around them, catching one or two glares.

“Bokuto-san.” The college student leans back off the table at his name, gesturing wildly with his hands.

“And, and, and- they’re, like, surprised that they’re dying off!” Akaashi blinks once slowly, then twice. He can’t help but let a tentative smile overtake his face. Bokuto is practically in quiet hysterics now, wet tears threatening to spill over his strange, golden eyes.

This guy must be high.

* * *

_Man,_ Bokuto thinks, _I’m so high._

Stupid Kuroo, giving his roommate half of his homemade brownie before his tutoring appointment, knowing damn well the older man can hardly handle a quarter. Bokuto wipes at the corners of his eyes and coughs once.

“Whew. Aha. 'M sorry. Um, the Shakers, yup.”

 _God, I look like an idiot,_ Bokuto thinks, putting his chin in his palms and pouting slightly. _Fuck you, Bedhead Tetsurō._

“It’s fine,” Akaashi’s smooth voice interrupts his musing.

His tutor lays dark cyan eyes on him. Bokuto can't help but wonder absentmindedly if they’re always half-lidded like that, all lazy and... seductive.

He feels his mouth dry up.

“It _is_ kind of funny,” Akaashi offers him the hint of a smile, one corner of his pink lips quirked upward.

“Oh, fuck me,” Bokuto hears the words before it registers that he’s the one saying them. He gapes uselessly, panicking.

Akaashi drops his eyes and his lips return to a straight line. His cheeks are dusted the slightest bit pink.

“I mean, uh… My paper! Y’know, I’m worried and stuff. I don't even know where Chicago _is_. I don't even know if I'm, you know, _supposed_ to know where Chicago is...” Bokuto exclaims, desperately.

Akaashi just stares up at him. _Not helping._

“I’m high,” Bokuto blurts, palms traveling up his face to cover his eyes. _Why the fuck did I say that?_

Bokuto is almost convinced Kuroo's brownie was laced with hallucinogens when he hears Akaashi chuckling. He lets one eye peek through his fingers, his brain capturing an image he somehow knows he’ll remember for a long time.

Akaashi’s head is tilted back slightly, sharp jawline above an angular throat. His eyes are closed and his cheeks, tinted red, sit under them. His mouth is open, revealing two rows of straight white teeth. His wavy black hair frames his face, curling slightly at the ends.

Even his button nose is perfect.

 _I’m doomed,_ Bokuto thinks, but he can't exactly bring himself to care.

Right on cue, Akaashi replies,

“I know.”

**Author's Note:**

> Guys, this is so self-indulgent. Akaashi and I are both moro-sexual writing tutors. (╥﹏╥)  
> Should I make this a series?


End file.
